Panoramas
A long time ago, when life was way less complicated, I went to Queen Mary College, part of the University of London, to study a Physics degree. After I decided that this wasn’t for me. I stayed in the capital for a number of years – living mostly in the East End, which was a vibrant mix of cultures, but still untouched by the gentrification of recent times. One of the simple pleasures of living in a huge city is the simple act of walking around. I explored all types of neighbourhoods with an old Nikon EM film camera slung over my shoulder – and documented the sights wherever I went on Kodachrome or Ektachrome transparency stock (most of which are long since gone). I was robbed, shot at by a tower-block sniper, and hassled in the estates more times than I can recall. Bloody loved every second of it. I was hooked by the brutalist nature of the Tower Hamlets council built estate architecture – a fascination that lingers to this day. (not just in Tower Hamlets though).
I was robbed, shot at by a tower-block sniper, and hassled in the estates more times than I can recall. Bloody loved every second of it. I was hooked by the brutalist nature of the Tower Hamlets council built estate architecture – a fascination that lingers to this day.
Anyway kids, in the 1980’s, we didn’t have any cctv in the hood, and there were no mag-locks on the doors, so it was fair-game to get into the tower blocks, & climb the pee-stinking stairwells to the very top of the buildings in order to get an ariel view of the city. (The lifts were invariably out of order).
This particular landscape was taken one very hot July morning in 1984. London possessed a haze that no other city in the UK could replicate – certainly not in the North East anyway. It gave the landscape a creamy colour, devoid of crispness. I set out, and found a block called Dewey House. It was the tallest building around, with 25 floors. I climbed to the top, past the sounds of guard dogs, babies crying, booming reggae music, and casual domestic abuse. The door to the roof was broken open, so I got into the open air and was rewarded by one of the greatest view ever. To my north was QMC (my old college on the Mile End Road), the Grand Union Canal, swathes of four storey tenement buildings, and the faint outline of the North London upland areas. To my west was the Metropolis – the skyscrapers of The City, and the West End beyond – views of Tower Bridge, the old Natwest tower & The Barbican. The eastern view was a corker, with a seemingly endless number of high rises stretching from here in Bow, to the Essex borders along the Thames. This view was due south – straight into Canning Town & the Isle of Dogs, then across to Deptford & Millwall – the most working class part of the capital. The Mile End athletics stadium is to the right. A view that has changed immeasurably in the last 30 years – this is now dominated by gigantic office developments at Canary Wharf & beyond.
I was experimenting with panoramic shots at the time, and I could only crudely sellotape prints together to produce something to go on my wall. The advent of digital imaging manipulation has transformed the way in which panos are made, and after scanning the slides using a high-res digital scanner, I was able to revisit the scene by merging the four frames in Photoshop, cleaning up the transition areas, removing blemishes, straightening any curved perspectives, and cropping it down. Panoramic stitching is now an integral part of my architectural photography workflow, and I couldn’t live without it.
